Regular Or Decaffeinated?
by DragonPeaceEnvoy
Summary: Duncan MacLeod and Manji meet at a diner. They are poorly served by a waitress who mispronounces the word "decaffeinated" as something far worse.


"Regular Or Decaffeinated?"  
  
A HIGHLANDER/BLADE OF THE IMMORTAL Crossover  
  
(I need to make a last-minute disclaimer: I obviously don't own either Highlander, not Blade of the Immortal, nor do I pretend to. I desire no money for writing this fanfic, or any other of my fanfictions. Note the paragraph I had written after the end of this short-story. I should had written a disclaimer in the first place, but I had forgotten; we all make mistakes, don't we? Please pardon my foul-up.-CrossoverPeaceEnvoy)  
  
Duncan MacLeod looked into the menu to see what the "cafeteria" (luncheon diner/café/restaurant) had in terms of food and beverages. He felt an energy, not greatly unlike the energy signature and buzz that he felt when an Immortal, one with a fully activated Quickening, would give off whenever near. MacLeod stirred, nervous at the presence of this energy, this not- exactly-a-quickening. He noticed the source walking by him, a relatively handsome Oriental (or, East-Asiatic) man whose only physical flaw was his strong aroma of uncleanliness, and Duncan tentatively decided to invite the formidable stranger with the oddish Near-quickening to come and sit at the same table. The stranger smiled gently and accepted the polite offer from the curious (or nosy?) Caucasian man.  
  
The Japanese man went by the name Manji, a crude, rough, smelly young man who sort-of resembled Duncan when Duncan was a young Immortal of only eighty or a hundred. Manji did not have the ability to experience the presence of a fellow Immortal as a very intense sensation or buzz or anything else suggesting a big, powerful energy-cloud approaching; but Manji did feel a subtle restlessness, as if the worms in his blood were trying to tell him that someone in the room was able to kill him. Manji scanned the room for the mortal danger, only to find noone powerful or dangerous other than the very interesting person sharing a table with him.  
  
Soon, he noticed that the tall Caucasian man with olive-tan skin and smooth straight olive-black hair and olive-dark-brown eyes to match was displaying unusual manners for a Western, and that the stranger also seemed to speak in a subtle, yet noticeable, Celtic accent. Was he Irish, or, perhaps, Scottish? 'Also, his manners are unusual for a Westerner native to the Twentieth Century. What century was he born in?' That was a perfectly legitimate question to ask, because, as Manji knew, it was not uncommon for an immortal to have lived for several or even many centuries, once they had swallowed Those (Not-So-) Sacred Worms (those Kessen-Chu). The stranger also seemed to emanate a vitality, similar to, but different from, what someone who had ingested The (Bloody) Worms might dump-off, yet not the sort to register in Manji's mind as a buzz or physical sensation, yet intense enough to suggest the presence of another Immortal. ('Are there other sorts of Immortals than we who have swallowed those damned Sacred Worms?' the Japanese Immortal thought to himself.)  
  
MacLeod grinned at Manji and told him, "My name is Duncan MacLeod. Would you like to have something to drink?" The other man replied in the affirmative, and they both decided that some sandwiches and several servings of very good coffee would make a fine lunch, so that was what they told the waitress.  
  
"Would you like your coffee regular or decapitated?" the waitress asked, not aware that she had uttered something that both a Quickening Immortal (such as Duncan MacLeod) and a Sacred-Worm Immortal (such as Manji) could easily interpret as a deadly threat. The two Immortals looked intensely at her wrists, so she was probably not a Watcher, not even a heretical Watcher such as that Horton guy, unless she was a *Stealth* Watcher??? 'How does she know I'm an Immortal?' each of both Immortals thought to himself, not aware that the other Immortal was thinking exactly the same question.  
  
Then the waitress realized that she had said something offensive, and guessed that it was an unconscious slip of her own tongue, one of her occasional mispronunciations of words, again..'What was it this time? Ah, yes...I had probably mispronounced the word "decaffeinated", and these two nervous Nellies probably heard it as "decapitated"----Some guys *Really* need professional help!!!' Her thought-content went from embarrassment to some rather contemptuous disgust over the two "nervous Nellies" who overreacted at the word "decapitated".  
  
She then smiled a polite-but-somewhat-plastic smile, carefully concealing her utter disdain for (what she naively thought were) a couple of effeminate and wimpish males, sugar-coating the situation (and her own attitude) with a sympathetic-sounding apology. "Sorry, I just realized I had mispronounced the word 'decaffeinated' into something unappetizingly morbid. I had meant to say 'decaffeinated', not the other word," she said, blushing at the two 'Nervous Nellies' a little.  
  
After that, all three people chuckled a bit, and the two Immortal men ordered some Regular coffee. 'At least the coffee will be all in one piece,' each of both men thought to himself.  
  
Then the coffee came, Regular as ordered; and a little later, the sandwiches and several more servings of fresh coffee complete with caffeine and a nice fresh-coffee aroma and matching taste. Both Immortals enjoyed their lunch and their conversation, which became a bit more personally candid of a discussion than planned toward the end of the meal, when that revolting young waitress was out of earshot; and both Immortals insisted on speaking softly, for they both knew of an organization called the Watchers, and about sworn enemies-of-Immortals such as Horton. Then they waxed romantic, both mentioning the women they had loved during their freakishly long lives, including the golden archetype, Tessa Noel, and the epic- poetry heroine, Rin. Then their conversation turned to lighter subjects, and both were also a bit amused that of the many dojos they frequent the wide-Earth-over, they have at least forty dojos in common.  
  
"But I still cannot get that Regular-Or-Decapitated faux pas out of my mind! That was too damned close for comfort!" Duncan complained. Maybe the caffeine was making him even more nervous after his drinking coffee than he was before lunch began.  
  
"Don't sweat it; mortals are known to sometimes say stupid and horrible things. I just hope she actually knows nothing about either of us. So, when did you swallow The Worms?"  
  
"Wha--?!" Duncan replied, with some shock, "Why would anyone eat worms, outside of a really bad teqilla-induced drunk?"  
  
"I mean to say, when did you become an Immortal?" Manji carefully rephrased his question.  
  
"Oh, you mean my Quickening! That's quite a story, and I became an Immortal over four-hundred years ago. Why do you refer to Immortality as some sort of worms? Poetry of some sort, a metaphor?"  
  
Manji explained how he had become an Immortal by the willful act of ingesting The Sacred Worms, and he watched Duncan's olive-tan skin turn olive-green; and then Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod described his experience as a genetic Immortal whose Quickening was activated once he had suffered what should had been a mortal wound, and he watched Manji's almond- shaped eyes become saucer-round! Manji summed up the gist of the discussion, "So, The Watchers are actually Watching at least two different kinds of Immortals: we who are Immies-by-Worms and you who are genetic Immies."  
  
Duncan nodded in agreement; "Yes, at least two varieties, maybe more."  
  
They went off their separate and merry ways, glad they had met each other. Also, they were both very mindful of the traffic, because it is relatively common knowledge that *Trains And Trucks Can Also Behead Immortals*, and that even Quickening Immortals are not immune to the deadliness of decapitation.  
  
When the sun went down, both Immortals were safe at home in their current residences, at least for the night.  
  
Meanwhile, that very evening, the waitress was also home, and she called up her "favorite uncle" (as she liked to say) by the phone. At first, the uncle was not impressed nor interested in his neice's prattle, and he only responded to her over the phone as a courtesy; but when she mentioned the physical appearance-features of the two men, and their ultra-quirky reaction towards her mispronunciation of "decaffeinated" as (!) "decapitated", then the uncle got curious about her little adventure and asked her for more details. As she gave the details, the hypothesis in his mind strengthened into a theory.  
  
Shortly after the phone call was over, the waitress's Favorite Uncle concluded what that silly, stupid girl would not imagine in a million years: that the two "neurotic males" were probably Immortals, and he wrote that information in his carefully guarded, elegant old leather-bound diary; then sealed that tome with lock-and-key; and locked it in a fire- safe hidden in a secret nook in his house, where only the most thoroughly prying-eyed spies might find.  
  
The Favorite Uncle was also a favorite student of a certain notorious Watcher named Horton, the sworn enemy of all Immortals, both Immortals-by- Quickening and Immortals-by-Worm! Just like Horton, he also prayed for the eradication of all Immortals, both those who are Immortal-by-Genes and those who are Immortal-by-Choice; the Uncle saw them *All* as a "blight" and an "obscenity" that needed to be eliminated....  
  
"The End", Or Maybe Only The Beginning???  
  
(Would people more familiar than I am with Blade or the Immortal, or BotI, please write some BotI/Highlander crossovers? Also, would *Everyone*, both BotI afficionados and non, please review this fanfic, my very first Highlander crossover; and have a good day-(:-)) xoxo! (x=hugs; o=kisses; and xo=shorthand for cross(x)-over(o) 


End file.
